Where do I find my home?
If external and anchored to a particular place, persons, or circumstance,
I always live in a temporary abode, a shifting unstable shelter.
Eventually I will be homeless, as will we all.
If internal and built with sturdy foundations shored by constant reinforcement,
I have a much different type of dwelling, a flexible steady residence.
If you place your happiness in that which can be taken from you,
You will lose your happiness.
Love where you are; love those around you; love what you love, in any way.
I do so and find comfort in all of these.
They will change and even pass away,
So I cherish them for their fleeting presence.
My hearthstone is placed in another realm,
Connected to all around, until it crumbles also,
Impermanent as I am.
“SO EVEN THOUGH WE FACE THE DIFFICULTIES OF TODAY AND TOMORROW,
I STILL HAVE A DREAM”.
I look around me to see
The empty spaces once filled by all we’ve lost:
People gone; land destroyed; dreams themselves dying,
And wonder can we bear this cost?
But I also pause to hear
The many voices that sing out a common song:
Notes of lamentation, but woven with threads of laughter and hope,
And remember that love remains strong.
There can be all manner of destruction and devastation,
But I will not forget the outstretched hands, the kind acts, and the courage of community.
How to delineate a life lived?
Let us use not temporal posts of days or years
But limn the finer measure
Of love given and received
Of kindness extended with a free hand
Of compassion shown in minute and larger ways
Of laughter shared with those around.
Choose to see joy
And continue to delight in our communal dance.
My dog gave proof that she is more
Than the pretty construct in my mind
And a wonderful companion.
She is teeth and claws and a fierce heart.
She will strike with deadly force
And kill to defend to our home.
She remembers that she is related to wolves,
Even though I did not.
She is a working dog,
And her talents are myriad and great.
I am so grateful to have her in my life.
What does it mean to be part of a community? I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately. I have a disparate group of friends, you see. They don’t overlap, except for the intersection of me. In each, I have encountered difficult people and befriended them. This might seem like odd behavior on my part. But I view myself an outsider in many ways and am aware that others might also. Perhaps I am also seen as a difficult person by some. But these particular people I write of do not have many friends, due to their habit of driving others away. I don’t let their peculiarities upset me unduly, nor take their actions or words personally most of the time, even when they might be directed at me. I realize that more is going than I can know and act with detachment and kindness as much as I can. Because THESE, just as much as the people who like me and WHOM I LIKE AND GET ALONG WELL WITH, are my neighbors. THESE represent my community also. If you say that your neighbor is ONLY they whom you like, then your definition of family is stunted indeed. In my definition of how to be in community, I was taught that all of my NEIGHBORS count: good, bad, indifferent. And you help ALL OF THEM, whether you LIKE them or not; whether they LIKE you or not; no matter WHAT. And this includes reaching out to the lonely; checking on the person who lives alone; and hanging in there even when the going gets rough. Not because we’re all in this together. But because this is how it works. OR doesn’t. How’s it working, from where you sit? I’m hearing that it’s not, really. I’m hearing that from both my groups. Are there answers? I don’t know. My answers are the same three sentences I read every morning. I have them written down on a piece of paper on my kitchen counter. BE KIND. DON’T ASSUME. TRY HARDER.
This week has left me saddened and dispairing over my encounters with the Christian community in my small town. Here is what I’ve encountered here in the Bible Belt:
First earlier in the week after the Charlottesville protest, I was speaking to a friend on transit. This person is somewhat elderly and has a devopmental disability. She was frightened and concerned that the violence she had witnessed might come to our small town. I was reassuring her that she was safe and that I believed she need not fear. She patted my hand and thanked me, saying “God bless you.” The transit driver then interjected into the conversation to inform her that I did not believe in god and that I was laughing at her words. All I had said in response to her was a simple “Thank you.” I would never hurt her by ridiculing her beliefs, nor would I try to distress her. She was alarmed already and his words just added to her fear. I attempted to assuage her concern and not inflame the situation. All I said to the driver was to remind him that the First Amendment also applies to atheists, after she had departed from the bus. He then said that it only applies to people who believed in god and that I should be deported (because I’m atheist). This was said in all seriousness.
The more I thought about this encounter, the more disturbing I found it. First, that he should use another person’s distress to target me seemed extremely callous. This passenger should not have been subject to more reason for confusion. She was already anxious and upset. She did not need to be brought into his dislike of my atheism. That is extremely uncalled for and beyond the pale. Second, he showed me that I have misread his character. He is a self-proclaimed “good Christian” and conservative Trump supporter. We have engaged in what I thought was good-natured banter in the past. But, while I am known to be a progressive activist, I have never crossed the line into attacking someone personally for his/her/xir beliefs. I firmly believe that the rights of everyone to have their own political and religious beliefs should be respected and that diversity is something to be valued.I don’t expect everyone to agree with me on politics, religion, sexuality, or any other subject. Indeed, I TRY to seek out and engage others with opposing views, not to change their minds by debate but to find out how others think and feel. I don’t want to live in my own little bubble. At the same time, though, I do let them know who I am and what I espouse. But I also accompany this by kind actions and compassion.
So, feeling shaken already by yet another disconcerting brush with Christianity here in the South, I attended a candlelight vigil last night. It had been advertised on FB and was held at a local church. I had not realised that this was to be religious (Christian) service, as the church where it was held had been the site for other nonreligious activites I had previously attended and it was not mentioned in the advert. But I resolved to stay, enjoy the beautiful hymns, and find some peace and comfort with others. I also wanted to hear that local Christians were other than my recent experiences would allow and not represented by those who would attack and exclude others.
This is what I heard. I say this with the hope that despite my attempt to be there as a fellow human being and seeker of peace that I misconstrued the message. There were four pastors officiating, each representing a different church and leading a different segment of the service. The first gave a rather standard talk on peace, using the familiar word of Francis of Assisi. The second, an African preacher, was much more inspiring, using fire and eloquence. I felt hopeful. THEN came the third pastor on the topic of love. He spoke of how Christians are supposed to love EACH OTHER and not criticize other Christians. I waited to hear his expansion of this into how Christians were to treat ALL people. But that message never arrived. Instead, he reiterated several more times that Christians were one body and were to love their CHRISTIAN neighbors and treat them well. He was conspicuous (to me, at least, as the non-Christian there) by his deafening silence on how Christians are to treat those of other faiths or of no faith at all. Then came the fourth pastor who talked about justice. After a rather vague account of Judas’ betrayal of Jesus, which seemed to have little connection with his theme of justice (perhaps I’m just obtuse), he went on to say that Jesus-and his father also by extension-loves CHRISTIANS and made it abundantly clear that he loves them above we lesser beings who don’t believe. As per the previous pastor, he said this three times, using different passages from the Christian New Testament. And again, no mention at all that presumably god also loves those who are other then Christian.
I left the service feeling alone , beleaguered, and saddened. I had hoped to hear a message of comfort and hope for all humans. Instead I came away with the understanding that the attacks I had experienced at the hand of “good” Christians were part and parcel of the culture of this region. I really don’t like to believe this but am slowly coming to think that those whom I DO know to embody the best teachings of Christianity in their words and deeds, who are compassionate, kind, and loving towards ALL, are anomalous. To freely aid a stranger, comfort the lonely, and help anyone in need…well, here at least, these words only seem to apply to other Christians.
I don’t think I’ll be converting.